


It All Starts With A Missing Turkey Sandwich

by berlynn_wohl



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bratting, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Face-Fucking, Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Murder Husbands, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Punishment, Rough Sex, Slight Asphyxiation, Will Knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:46:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3236789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is very rude, but for some reason Hannibal doesn’t eat him. Who knows, maybe it’s because he’s pretty or something. Murder Husbands AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It All Starts With A Missing Turkey Sandwich

There was nothing wrong with something simple once in a while. For instance, a turkey sandwich, on bread sliced from a loaf Hannibal had baked that morning, with some chutney and arugula. Having plated it on the kitchen counter, he cut it diagonally, and was just about to take it into the dining room when his phone rang. He answered it; a client who needed to reschedule. Perfectly ordinary occurrence, and it only took a minute of his time.

While he was on the phone, he heard the front door open and shut. From where he was, he could detect Will's gait in the footsteps he heard, and smell the freshly caught fish that Will had brought with him. And so Hannibal did not even bother to look up, but continued penciling in the new appointment. As he was reassuring his patient that the change was not at all inconvenient to him, and completely understandable, Will walked through the kitchen, and Hannibal heard the clatter of fish being off-loaded, and Will mumbling, “Great, I'm starving,” as he passed through. When Hannibal returned to the kitchen, his sandwich was gone.

He followed the odor – trout and whiskey – into the den, where Will was already halfway through the sandwich, watching the news on television. “Fish are in the sink,” he said, with his mouth full. He only looked up a moment later, but when he saw the look on Hannibal's face, he quickly continued, “I can clean them, just give me a minute.”

“No, no, it's perfectly alright,” Hannibal replied, just the way he'd said it to the patient on the phone minutes before, and returned to the kitchen. 

 

*****

 

Once Will was (finally) in the shower, Hannibal dumped his odiferous clothes into the washing machine and opened the windows on the ground floor to chase away the lingering odor. Will emerged from the master bathroom twenty minutes later, wrapped in a towel, clean and sweet-smelling, to find Hannibal putting away a book that he'd left on the bedside table the night before.

“Got any patients this afternoon?”

“None until tomorrow at eleven.”

Will chuckled as he approached Hannibal. “Well, I don't need _that_ much time.” He whipped off his towel, so that Hannibal could see that his cock was half-hard and looking for a place to call home for the next ten or fifteen minutes. They worked together to divest Hannibal of his clothing, Will handling the zipper of his trousers, Hannibal seeing to the buttons at his cuffs and collar.

Will tumbled onto the bed, pulling Hannibal with him, but quickly rolled the both of them so that he was on top. Hannibal was amenable to this, grasping the cheeks of Will’s ass in both hands, spreading him a little, while Will groped at everything he could reach and ground against Hannibal to rub their cocks together.

Hannibal was just putting his finger in his mouth to wet it so that he could tease Will’s hole with it, when Will drew back, then propped himself on his knees and climbed his way up and over Hannibal. His hard cock swung back and forth as he went, until it was in Hannibal’s face, and Will’s knees were on either side of Hannibal’s shoulders.

“This alright?” he asked.

Hannibal replied, “Yes, but I prefer that you not finish like this. I’d like to be inside you when you come.”

“Yeah, you’re an old-fashioned romantic that way,” Will said, and slowly pushed the head of his cock past Hannibal’s lips. Hannibal happily greeted it with his tongue, licking all around the crown and into the slit, which only encouraged Will to push deeper.

Will wanted to see how deep Hannibal could take it. He adjusted his position, leaning forward so his weight was on his knees, and gripped the headboard. He tilted his hips, and his cock slid smoothly into Hannibal’s mouth. He continued in this fashion, looming over Hannibal and pushing his cock between those accommodating lips. The head brushed the back of Hannibal’s throat. Could he breathe comfortably? Will was not overly concerned. But Hannibal remained calm; beneath Will’s rump, his chest hardly rose and fell at all, and he kept his relaxed hands at his sides. Will marveled at Hannibal’s lack of resistance and his fuckable mouth. Sliding out was just as exciting for him as pushing in; his cock was the same dark shade of pink as Hannibal’s mouth, and as he retreated, those lips clung to it, as if reluctant to let it go.

When he at last pulled it free, a fine strand of saliva stuck to Hannibal’s lower lip. Will used his thumb and two fingers to lift and angle his cock so he could lay it heavily across Hannibal’s face. He began to slide it all over, skimming it wetly across Hannibal’s nose, his cheekbones. He carefully pressed the head of it against Hannibal’s left eyelid, the slit leaking a drop of pre-come as he felt the eyeball swiveling beneath that delicate skin. Then he lifted it away and proceeded to slap Hannibal’s cheeks and lips with it. Hannibal remained impassive, and when Will laid the head against his lips, he opened them to welcome it once more. But Will was only pretending, and returned to playfully slapping it against his face.

It was not much for pure sensation; the thrill came from the _idea_ of what he was doing. Will was inclined to impishly demand, _Tell me you like it_ , but he was not interested in having Hannibal lie to him anymore. However, having received no objection from him, Will became bolder, and scooted up another inch, so he could lay his balls right against Hannibal’s mouth. And when Hannibal opened up, Will dipped one inside, for Hannibal to bathe with his tongue. He continued to drag the underside of his leaking cock over the jut of Hannibal’s cheekbones, and the hollows beneath, while Hannibal gently sucked on the loose skin of his sack.

Will remembered perfectly well that Hannibal didn’t want him to come yet, but he was just so ready to unload, and just managed to pull back enough to get the head of his cock back in Hannibal’s mouth before he did, though he pulled out again halfway through to milk the final spurts across Hannibal’s features, wringing out all the humiliation he could onto that maddeningly blank expression. He wiped the last feeble drop from his softening cock onto the corner of Hannibal’s long upper lip, now curled into the tiniest submissive smile. Above that, some of the thick fluid clung to Hannibal’s eyelashes.

“Sorry,” he laughed, clearly not sorry at all. “It was just too good to resist.”

Hannibal licked away what he could reach of Will’s spunk, then gave Will a little pat on his rear end, so that he would move and free Hannibal to sit up. Hannibal reached over the side of the bed and grabbed Will’s discarded towel. After wiping away Will’s mess, he finally replied, “It’s understandable. But now it’s my turn.”

Will would have preferred to have a nap, but he’d gotten his, so it was only fair to let Hannibal do his thing for a little while. He simply rolled onto his belly, knowing Hannibal would do all the work from here on out. And indeed, Hannibal prepared him very carefully, using two fingers to push plenty of lube inside him. It felt nice, even though he was entirely spent. A few minutes of Hannibal’s cock would be a breeze to handle.

What Will did not expect was to be grabbed by the hips and pulled up onto his hands and knees, and to feel that thick cock going all the way up him in one stroke. Will was mortified at the way he squeaked in shock when it glanced over his prostate. And that was only the beginning. Once fully seated inside, Hannibal proceeded at a breakneck pace, jarring the breath out of Will and holding him tight to prevent any squirming or attempt at escape. He only let go of Will’s hips to lean forward and put one hand on his neck, palm against his throat and fingers pushing on his jawline, forcing his head back, so that Hannibal could put his lips against Will’s ear.

“Did you enjoy humiliating me?” Hannibal growled. “Hm? Answer me: Did it feel good to be the daddy for a while?”

Will tried to articulate his answer, but he was panting, unable open his throat properly, and Hannibal was pummeling his prostate, snuffing out any attempt at assembling sounds into a verbal response. All he could muster was an ambiguous whine.

“Well, now I’m the daddy again,” Hannibal said, “and you know daddy likes to play a little rough sometimes.”

“ _Unhngh_ ,” said Will, more or less.

Hannibal’s relentless strikes to his prostate were forcing his dick to get hard again, but he was sure he wouldn’t be able to come a second time. It did manage to twitch and dribble, at the feeling of being so full. His breath came in harsh sobs, whenever Hannibal’s grip on his throat loosened for a moment. It was never so tight as to choke, and there was no pain, but the pressure had him gasping. With the hot breath on his neck, the heavy musk in his nostrils, and the belly pressed into the strained curve of Will’s back, he felt he might suffocate just from the heat. Nonetheless, he was forced to grunt with every stinging smack as Hannibal worked himself deeper, his hipbones pounding against Will’s ass.

And once in a while, a frisson of pleasure, a feeling that teased him like the lapping of the sea against the shore – to be plundered so deeply, possessed so entirely, by someone so powerful. Will was struggling not to wince or jerk, not to give Hannibal the satisfaction of having turned him into a quivering mess. But he was in a haze now, being pushed beyond every limit as he took Hannibal’s cock so helplessly. “Please don’t make me come again,” he gasped.

“I did give you a warning. You should have known that this would happen.”

Tears pricked the corners of Will’s eyes as Hannibal continued giving him rough jabs of his cock. Trapped in Hannibal’s searing, possessive grip, he was unable to form a coherent thought about how he might end this. For several minutes, he tried to wait it out, just exist and let Hannibal get bored and finish, but Hannibal noticed Will’s renunciation of effort, and growled, “You know, Daddy’s not like you. He can last a _long_ time.”

Already trembling with fatigue and nearly unable to sustain the effort of keeping himself propped up under Hannibal’s weight, it took everything Will had left just to lift one hand from the bed to reach down and stroke himself. It had to end. He was a mass of raw nerve endings and unable to fill his lungs even to yelp or whine at the treatment Hannibal was doling out.

He jerked himself roughly even though it was sore, hoping it would get him off quicker. And God, Hannibal’s balls were slapping against his own in just the most filthy, obscene way. The thought was disgusting enough to finally trigger his orgasm. Coming was not pleasurable, just an overwhelming ache that was happening to him, and he gave a pathetic shriek when he felt his cock straining to produce some fluid.

Hannibal’s last few strokes were accompanied by deep grunts dug from his diaphragm, and Will felt the hot little twitches inside him. Then at last he dropped his head to Will's shoulder, deigning to press a kiss to the hot, damp skin there. He hushed Will with soft nonsense noises, and stroked his hair with the hand he’d had on his throat just moments before.

The cruel thrusting was over, but Will was still in agony, at least until Hannibal retreated, letting his softening cock slip out, along with a warm trickle of fluid that quickly cooled on Will’s perineum. At last, Will was able to collapse on the bed, not caring that he was lying in the feeble trickle of spunk he’d produced, or how the fastidious Hannibal might feel about that. He took deep lungfuls of air that reeked of sweat and semen.

For a brief time, he had no thoughts, not even a sense of relief or contentment. But his respite was short-lived, for soon Hannibal gathered him up in both arms for a hard cuddle, whispering as he rocked him, “Daddy taught you a good lesson, didn’t he?”

The last thing Will wanted at the moment was to be held by another hot, sweaty, hairy man. But there was not a whole lot he could do about it at that point. A small affirmative whine worked its way free of his throat.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on a set of prompts I got from my followers on Tumblr as part of a fic-fest. I mixed up all the prompts and wrote the results. The prompts for this fic were as follows:
> 
> type40consultingdetective: It all starts with a missing turkey sandwich.  
> [follower who wished to remain anonymous]: And then suddenly one demands that the other do something he finds kind of offensive (if a little thrilling).  
> [And then they have sex.]  
> violetwylde: There's a great deal of dirty talk.  
> shadowfireflame: But the important thing is that the story is very frightening.


End file.
